


And He Keeps Holding You

by theclouddetective



Category: Gorillaz
Genre: Hurt and comfort, M/M, Mental Illness, Panic Attacks, This is really short and awful lmao, mudz is a really good vent character thank you bab I'm sorry u have to go through some shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-26
Updated: 2016-11-26
Packaged: 2018-09-02 06:55:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8655088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theclouddetective/pseuds/theclouddetective
Summary: Mudz has a panic attack. Short af vent fic





	

You rolled restlessly to the side, overheated, and you could feel the sweat prickling at your scalp. The body next to you twitches, long, warm limbs seeking you out, and you shy away, pushing yourself out of bed, leaving him to fumble with the sheets. They had started feeling like they were wrapped impossibly around you, confining you. It was getting to be another one of those nights when the air was hot and smothering, impossible to breathe, the walls made your skin itch as they flexed inwards, as if they were organic, made to pulse and contract, and every stitch of clothing, lock of hair, or broken section of skin sent you into a private frenzy, pulling at yourself with increasingly fevered movements, trying to get everything off, everything away from you. Panic attack. The irritating kind, the ones that lasted the longest and dealt the most damage and were the hardest for anyone to see. ‘D had grown- not used to, but at least accustomed to some of your other breakdowns. He would hold you, rock you gently while you gasped and jammed your fist in your mouth to stop yourself from screaming. Brush your hair out of your face and the frustrated tears from your eyes when you had a nightmare, still you when you couldn't get yourself to stop shaking, convince you to put the bottle down when you were struggling to keep yourself standing, calm even the anger that ripped through your throat and tugged at your fists with just the look on his face. This kind of breakdown- along with a few you had stifled for a very, very long time now- he had yet to see. 

 

And you didn't intend to change that. Cue stumbling through the halls at unholy o’clock in nothing but your skivvies, hand in your hair, yanking fistfuls out and clawing at your face. You managed to get yourself outside, gasping over the balcony railing as the sweat on your skin became a catalyst for a harsh chill settling over you. You heaved, pulled out more hair, tugged at your face. Wished you could wash yourself away, but knew that you would scrub yourself raw if you tried to clean yourself like this. Spat over the railing, tasted bile. Took a few deep breaths. 

 

The sky was paling by the time you had calmed down enough to notice something like the color of the sky, notice you were clammy and that your jaw ached from grinding your teeth and your skin stung where you'd clawed at it. Notice how achingly fucking cold you were. You stood, wary now, tired, bones creaking in a way that made you feel too old. You padded through the halls, shivering and hurting and wanting to just collapse. Fumbled for the pack of cigarettes on the side table as you fell back into the bed. 

 

He was waiting for you, didn't say anything as you lit up. You tried to pass him the pack, but he shook his head, wrapped his long hands around yours and pulled them close to his chest. They were warmer than they should have been. Stuart was a skinny boy with bad circulation and long, knobby fingers. His hands were usually cool against yours, and the difference in temperatures made you frown around your cigarette.   
“Muds,” he breathed. You didn't know what to say. Those long, beautiful hands dropped yours, cupped your face, worried over the scratches you'd gouged out around your eyes, touched hair that had been a lot more even just a few hours earlier.   
“Murdoc,” he continued, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. You shivered, washed in his heat, and it almost reached your bones.   
“Murdoc, babe, you're freezing, what happened?” You reached behind you, stubbed out your cigarette and shoved your face into the crook of his neck. Let your eyes close. 2D’s hands wove through your hair, over your shoulders, across the small of your back. He was whispering something to you, but you weren't listening. You shifted, pulled him down with you as you lay on your back. He'd quieted by now, seemed to accept the fact that you weren't gonna talk about it. He kissed your forehead, and you twisted, kissed him back. And he kept holding you.


End file.
